The View
by Morbid Muse
Summary: Doyle has an eternity to spend alone in Heaven. But alone doesn't have to mean cut off from his former friends. (complete)
1. Chapter 1

Title: The View  
  
Author: Amandab9aol.com  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't really have to be writing fanfic about it, now would I?  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Spoilers: From "Hero" (season 1) through "Your Welcome" (season 5)  
  
Requests: Cordelia and Angel included. Sadly, there really isn't much Angel in this story. I tried but there somehow wasn't much for Angel to do here.  
  
Restrictions: None.  
  
Author's Note 1: Takes place at the very end of Hero.  
  
Author's Note 2: Written for giglibad as part of the 'Doyleathon' hosted by xdejection.

The pain rips through him, consuming him. Doyle has to keep working though. Has to finish the job. Through the pain. Oh, the pain! White hot searing, pain. The task and the pain. The pain! The PAIN! THE PAIN! THE PAIN! THE –  
  
Nothing.  
  
Nothing for as far as Doyle can see. Nothing but white extending all around him. The eerie silence is like nothing he has ever experienced before. It is almost unsettling.  
  
He looks down at himself. Whole and unsacred, it doesn't look like he had just felt his flesh burning. Carefully, with a slightly shaking hand, Doyle feels around his face. It is smooth and sweaty. No signs of the damage that just happened. Which Doyle finds a little odd.  
  
"Well, hello."  
  
Doyle turns around towards the sound of the voice.  
  
A short, stout green demon stands in front of him, smiling a little nervously. His yellow eyes look over Doyle for a moment, giving him enough time to practically hear Cordelia saying the yellow and green totally clash.  
  
"Uh, hi."  
  
The demon holds out a pudgy hand. "Name's Steve."  
  
"Doyle," he answers, feeling a little ridiculous bending down to shake someone's hand in less than nowhere, only moments after facing his death.  
  
At least the pain is gone.  
  
"Oh, I know who you are. The Powers sent me to meet you."  
  
"The Powers? Meet me? I think you're mistaken, buddy. See, they were probably expecting my pal Angel. He's the one the Powers would be interested in meeting."  
  
"No, no. They said Doyle, all right. I don't see any vampire who has done that much harm, even one with a soul, ever getting into Heaven."  
  
Doyle feels like he's swaying on his feet. "Heaven?" he repeats, feeling dazed.  
  
Steve grins. "Its kind of a kick in the ass, isn't it? I mean, you were alive a minute ago. Living a mostly a moral life. I felt the same way when I first came here."  
  
"Here. In... heaven?"  
  
"Now you're getting it." Steve jerks a fat thumb in one direction that the pure white extends towards. "What do you say we hit the town while I catch you up on everything? We could literately stay here forever, but I think that would get pretty boring."  
  
Doyle still only sees white, doubts there will ever be much of anything else, but follows Steve. He notices for the first time that Steve isn't wearing any shoes. His leathery, green feet make a slightly annoying sound as they pad on the floor that Doyle can't feel. If it weren't for the sound, Doyle would swear they are just floating in a vacuum.  
  
"So tell me about this place." Doyle is almost surprised at how calm his voice sounds as it bounces back up to meet him, back he is already feeling soothed. His death isn't really bothering him as much as he would have expected. It is something about this place...  
  
"What's there to tell? I've been here for about four years, myself. That is, four years your time."  
  
"My time?"  
  
"Yeah, the type you kept while you lived on earth. We don't have any time here."  
  
"Bet the watch makers hate this place."  
  
Steve snorts, Doyle can hear the noise from his place behind Steve, even though he knew it was a dumb joke as it said it. Maybe that is what heaven is all about. People laughing at your dumb jokes.  
  
"Watch business doesn't love us, no. Other businesses do far better here."  
  
Doyle hasn't seen any businesses yet. Honestly, he hasn't seen anything but the pure white and Steve since he has arrived.  
  
Just when he begins to think that there really is nothing more than the never-ending white, Doyle spots something metallic and gleaming in the distance. As they walk closer, Doyle recognizes it as an elevator. It seems to just be hanging there. Out of all the things he had immediately begun to miss from life, elevators probably wouldn't have been too high on the list. Doyle peers a little strangely but Steve steps right into it.  
  
"Coming?"  
  
Doyle doesn't see any other option but following. Sticking around in a vacuum of white must have its up side, but Doyle can't seem to find it.  
  
As soon as he steps in, the metal doors close. Steve presses a button and Doyle can feel the elevator vibrate beneath him.  
  
There is soft music playing. Faint and just instrumental, it is typical for what he would associate with annoying elevator music. So this place even as the annoying details down, huh?  
  
When the doors open, to what could have been any little city, Doyle is almost frozen in surprise. The street is covered with demons of all shapes and sizes. Seeing them walk around, seemingly happy enough, is a stark contrast from where he had previously been.  
  
Doyle follows Steve's tilted head towards the small building across from him. There is a small, wooden sign above it proclaiming Mikey's Pub. Doyle smiles for the first time since he died.  
  
Following Steve, Doyle heads to the pub. The thick, wooden door creaks as it opens, emitting them into a crowded room filled with the familiar smell of beer.  
  
"What are you drinking?" Steve asks.  
  
"Something strong."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
Doyle finds a scudded table away from the bar. He pulls himself into the booth while Steve orders the drinks. Leans back against the red headrest, closes his eyes and watches the colors whirl across his eyelids. Oddly, they seem to almost take the shape of a very female face. With dark eyes and dark hair, and now blue lips. And that shocked look because she wasn't expecting a kiss. Wasn't expecting to watch him die directly after it.  
  
His eyes fly open again to find Steve has returned with two dark beers. His green hands are clutching his beer as his eyes watch Doyle.  
  
Taking a beer with a mostly steady hand, Doyle meets Steve's eyes. "Tell me about this place."  
  
Steve takes a thoughtful sip. "What is there to tell? Let's see, it's a demon heaven. But you already know that."  
  
"Demons only. Isn't that a little..." Doyle searches for the word. 'Segregated' comes to mind first, but he settles with, "exclusive?"  
  
"Well, not strictly demons. But magical, not fully human, creatures. It has been found to be easier than throwing humans into the mix. When humans have never even heard of our kinds, they tend to create more trouble than its worth. You know humans." Doyle pretends that the speech doesn't remind him of any other organizations he had just witnessed by taking another sip of his drink.  
  
"What about the humans who do know about demons?" he asks while pretending that he isn't thinking about the brown hair, brown eyes, and soft lips.  
  
Steve shrugs. "Never really cared to find out. I haven't personally run across any I could think of, at least. Anyway, what else do you wanna know?"  
  
"Well, how did I get here?"  
  
"Oh, that one is easy! You died."  
  
Doyle finishes his beer with his statement and doesn't feel a thing. Not even a little buzz. He looks down at the empty glass feeling betrayed. Out loud he asks, "How does this place work?"  
  
"Everyone has there own place, like a home. Inside is whatever they want. There is everything here that you could get down there. Same kind of stores that were cluttered all over LA are spread around here. You know those business types. Any chance to expand their market and wallets and they are in." Steve shakes his head at this. "We've all the sports, game rooms, movie theaters, and pool areas. We've even added schools for whatever you wanted to learn and didn't get the chance. But one of the best things, that everyone cares most about, is The View."  
  
Steve leans back and grins like he just said something very important but Doyle is too dumb to realize what it is. "The view?"  
  
"Oh yeah. The View." There is that damn grin again.  
  
All Doyle can think about is a group of women disagreeing on TV. Not that he really ever watched the show. Much.  
  
"Is that it or are you going to tell me what 'The View' means?"  
  
"Everyone up here gets it. Most newbies go crazy over it. They miss the ones they just left so much, you know?"  
  
Doyle wonders if you can kill someone is heaven. Maybe it is frowned down upon?  
  
He stops himself from committing the more likely sin of making another bad joke about how the anticipation killed him. Settling instead for a stony glare, he knows that he can't pull it off as well as Angel could.  
  
"The View? It means you can watch the living."  
  
Silence for a minute as Doyle considers this, before he asks, "What?"  
  
"Surprised? The Vision means you can watch the living. Some of those other heavens won't let you, ya know. They just give you this ultimate happiness stuff and make you pretty much ignore the fact that you left others behind. But not here. Here you can watch those that you left; anytime, anyplace. It works kind of like you're in their head."  
  
"And this isn't the first thing you told me?"  
  
Steve shrugs. "I guess it slipped all three of my minds." 

===Amanda===


	2. Chapter 2

"So, that's it?" Doyle asks, unable to stop the doubt from seeping into his voice. "It looks like a kid's video game."

The top of the headset resembles a helmet before it loops down. And the goggles that go over the eyes, still connected to the rest of the headset, are blackened out. Doyle can't help feeling cynical.

"Hey, all the great things look simple to simple minds."

Steve talks like he is quoting something but it is either an original Steve or Doyle just doesn't know the source. Either way, he doesn't really care.

"I just slip this on? And I can see anyone?"

"Not just see. It is more than that. I can't really explain it in words, but you'll get it."

Doyle runs his hand over the smooth helmet again and questions, not for the first time, if all of this is really happening.

"Well! I guess I'll just leave you alone now. People and their Views can be really personal. Especially on their first time." Steve jesters towards the door. "Be seeing ya."

Doyle watches the only creature he knows in all of this dimension leave. Follows Steve with his eyes from one end of the building to the other. One end of Angel Investigations offices to the other. One end of Doyle's new home to other.

Steve called it mental projection. Said that Doyle's memories and warmest feelings of being well, home led to his new home. So to see Doyle's new home be Angel Investigations offices. Even he hadn't realized he felt that strongly about the place.

Doyle slowly picks up The View. It is lighter than he would have expected. Shouldn't the power it seems to possess weigh it down? Steve said that the hardest part of the process was deciding who to watch first. Doyle couldn't disagree. Would it be his mother, probably not even yet told of her son's death? Would it be Harry, hopefully happy and safe with the memories of all the good times they shared together? But Doyle seemed to be only an observer as his traitorous mouth whispers, "Cordelia Chase."

And he had just enough time to wonder about his mouth's loyalty when the hands had decided to switch sides and work for the enemy as well, before he was launched into The View.

_Cordelia likes the soft sound her ballpoint pen makes rubbing against the magazine. The new trendy clothes may be out of her price range now, but their looks are not immune to the powers of her pen. She focuses on finding the perfect outfit, focuses only on finding the perfect outfit, which the magazine has to offer and pretends that later she'll buy them. Pretends that not affording it is the biggest problem in her life. _

_ "Food's here." _

_Cordelia looks from Angel to the takeout box in his hand. Silently puts down her magazine and pen, marking the spot for later, and goes with Angel to his kitchen below the office. _

_They eat without much conversation. Cordelia doesn't ask why Angel is eating with her and Angel doesn't ask Cordelia why she doesn't go home. Neither seems to taste the food. _

_After the table has been cleared, Angel goes to his bedroom. Wordlessly, Cordelia produces the pillow and blanket from where she left it and the cleaned area on the floor. Mentally, she has begun to call it her spot. A far cry from her old life but now everything, with the exception of her magazine subscriptions, seems to be. _

_The floor is cold and still a little dusty. Cordelia thinks of her clean, warm bed in her apartment. But that won't do. Because thinking of her apartment means remembering that Doyle got her the perfect place. And that makes her think of Doyle. Doyle is gone and can't come back ever again. _

_Cordelia closes her eyes to shut out the world and vainly hopes that it will affect her thoughts too. A bird cries in the distance and she honestly isn't sure if it's confused or she is. Working for a vampire hasn't helped her sense of bedtime. The bird is still crying when she wakes up. Of course, it may be a different one, but she doubts it. Pain and sorrow can not just be transferred. _

_"Morning." Angel's voice behind her doesn't scare her anymore. "_

_Is it?" _

_"Um... its bright out. With, you know, the sun." _

_"So that's a yes?" _

_"Yes." Cordelia nods. "Okay." _

_So they begin the day again. Work on the same cases as the day before, walk the same circles around each other. Cordelia circles the same magazine and dreads having to go home to her haunted apartment that night. They both ignore the same pain from missing Doyle. _

_The work day ends as unofficially as it began. Angel wonders away and back, producing take-out menus. He drops them on her desk, silently telling her to choose what they'll be eating tonight._

The thought of a second night's food pulls Doyle back to reality. With a sift movement, he reaches up and yanks The View off of him. For a moment, everything looks too bright. Watching through Cordelia had been strange for many reasons; only one being that everything had a dim glow to it. Here the same offices seem less harsh and more pleasant. Things fall back into place, from what Doyle can tell.

Most of his mind is still back at the Angel Investigations in LA. It had been sad to see Angel and Cordy unable to move on when Doyle was handling everything okay, considering. He felt a stab of guilt for causing them pain but a sharper one for being almost glad to see it. To know he is missed, that he made that big of an impact during life, gave him a sicken sense of pride. Which only makes him feel worse.

"Right then," Doyle begins, talking to himself. "Food it is."

Slowly, Doyle comes to his feet. His legs don't feel any more unused than usual. Steve's comment about no time floats back to him in heaven. Having nothing to do an eternity in which to do it, Doyle lets himself out of the familiar building. There is another elevator directly outside the doors. Putting one foot slowly in front of the other, keeping his eyes on the elevator at the same time, he lets himself into the little metal shaft.

"Which button do you want?"

Doyle turns to face the voice behind him. He wonders he has lost his ability to sense others in a room or if everyone here is just really good at sneaking up on him.

"Uh, I'm really not sure." The girl, the first one that Doyle has seen since his arrive that looks human, smiles. "Newbie?"

"Guess so."

"You'll get used to everything soon enough. Here elevators are, like, the only transportation you'll need." Her brown eyes look Doyle up and down. He tries to pretend he isn't thinking about Cordelia.

"Where can I get food? Good food?"

"Everywhere here has good food. Perfectly made for everyone's tastes. You'll love whatever you eat. But you know you don't have to."

"I don't have to like what I eat?"

"No, you don't have to eat. We don't need it. But it is enjoyable. And there is no harm it now. No chance to gain weight or be unhealthy."

The girl takes a step towards Doyle while she talks and he can small her light perfume. He wouldn't have that people in heaven needed to use perfume but he isn't complaining. For once, he really isn't thinking about Cordelia.

"Do you know the level system yet?" Doyle shakes his head. "Floor 1 is food. Floor 2 is sports. 3, entrainment. 4, nature. Level 5 has all the famous places on Earth that people never got to go see but always to. 6 has all the schools, libraries, and knowledge centers. 7 allows for social gatherings of mental projections and Viewings. Whatever you want, you got. It's kinda nice."

He nods, she makes it sound it. "What about the other ones?"

"Don't worry about those. No one uses the rest without special direction. 8 and up is only for the staff. You know, someone has to work to keep things up to this level. And L, or Lobby, is only for picking up and bringing in the new ones as they arrive."

A glimpse of the endless white nothing returns to Doyle's mind. That is what they call the Lobby? "Oh," he says, like his head isn't spinning. "Oh."

The girl laughs. "I know it must sound like a lot, but you'll remember the floor soon enough. It isn't really that hard."

"Oh." Doyle stares at the panel before him. "I guess it'll be level 1 then."

The girl smiles again and Doyle goes right back to thinking about Cordelia. "Great. Why don't I join you? I know all the best places to eat." Doyle ignores the part of his brain that remembers her saying everything was had the best place to eat and nods. "That'd be great."

= = =Amanda= = =


	3. Chapter 3

He starts marking his time by how long until he can use The View again.

It feels like an addiction, like it is wrong, but no one else seems to have a problem with it. In the beginning of his stay, it hadn't been like that. Doyle knows that he's grown more attached to The View as his time, basically alone, has gone on. He blames it on the fact that he only has one person he can talk to here, one person that he can call a friend.

The first thing that Doyle discovered through talking with the girl over a breakfast meal on that first day was that she actually had a name. The name, as it turned out, was Lisa. The second thing he learned was that he enjoys spending time with her much more than he ever did with Steve. The third thing he learned was the only one that disappointed him. It was that she was not human, but a demon.

"Why does that bother you? This is a demon heaven." She had asked on that first day, swirling some milk into her coffee mug.

"I know that. But I was hoping that, every once and a while, maybe a human or two slipped in. One that, you know, understood about demons. And fought the good fight."

"Missing someone?"

Doyle's hand had tightened around his mug of coffee. He could have lied, could have acted brave and say no. She hadn't known him at the time so it would have been easy for him to reinvent himself as strong and withdrawn. In the end, though, he went for the truth. "Aren't we all?"

Lisa had nodded; he remembers her brown hair falling down from its bun to lay on her shoulders.

"It is why The View is so popular."

His eggs were still hot, even though he'd ignored them to talk, so he had scooped a forkful into his mouth. He remembers questioning if that was what heaven is really all about. Always having warm eggs and watching those you miss.

Doyle isn't quite sure his view of it has changed. Lisa will sometimes say that he just wants to be miserable. She might be right. Heaven is great, if you can spend it with someone.

The only one Doyle has is Lisa and, while she is friend, Doyle can't see as anything more. Always watching her sister, Alexandra, and her husband Alem'ra Jua; Lisa is hardly trying to dissuade Doyle from becoming too attached to The View. Doyle knows that Lisa and her sister are completely assimilated into the human culture in looks and actions. Alem'ra Jua; however, is a practicing Chaos Demon. Doyle just hopes that it isn't Angel that ends up killing him.

This leads him to think about Angel. What is Angel doing now? Is he with Cordelia? Doyle just has to find out.

He has seen her transfer from a beautiful, overly confident actress to the demon fighting woman she is now. Time is marked for him through how much she has grown. How much has changed in Angel Investigations marks time for him. When he is honest to himself, he can admit that the addition of Wesley so soon after his own departure did hurt. To see him fit in where Doyle had to leave due to an expected case of death? It hurt no matter how much he tried to ignore that part of himself.

But Wesley had changed. Doyle may not have physically been there to see it, but he has watched from The View. Seen all there is to see. Is Wesley with Cordelia right now? Are they on the job with Angel? With Gunn? With that new girl, Fred? Last thing Doyle had seen was the four of them taking care of the baby. Angel having a baby still concerns Doyle but he can't seem to stop wanting to watch what happens.

He finds the headset right where he left it. Runs one hand lovingly across its smooth black surface. It feels as welcoming as always. Grabbing the end of it, Doyle pulls it over his head in the familiar jester. He leans forward and whispers, "Cordelia Chase."

_The sweet smell of baby powder fills the room. It isn't the smell that bothers her; it is the fact that the powder has managed to get everywhere. _

_Men! Leave them to clean a baby and all they do is create a mess! _

_"Boys. What happened here?" She can keep her voice calm. _

_Wesley and Gunn slowly turn towards her. They both have spots of white dashed across random areas of clothing and faces. One of Wesley's glasses is almost completely white. As she spoke, they both winced. _

_"I hope you don't think that I'm cleaning this up," she told them, still keeping her voice sound calm with effort. _

_Both men seemed to shrink back before her. It was too cute. Let them think she is trying to contain anger when she is really trying to keep in the laughter. _

_Cordelia let her eyes leave the funny site of Wes and Gunn to find Connor sitting on the floor. He lies on top of several blankets covered in fresh, white powder. _

_"Come here, baby." She croons as she picks him up. _

_Her fingers are turning whiter by the second but she doesn't mind. Cradling Connor protectively in her arms, she turns towards Wes and Gunn again. _

_"This is the last time either of two try to change a diaper." _

_"Fine by us!" Gunn responses, smiling. _

_Men! _

_Cordelia tightens his arms around Connor and turns her back to her friends. She can already hear the shuffle of things behind her as they attempt to clean up their mess. She can't wait to tell Angel. She'll replay it all to him, lying on his bed with Connor in between them. Lazily, she'll retell how messy Wes and Gunn got themselves. He will smile and regret missing it. Then he'll go all protective and threaten to never leave Gunn or Wes with his son again. _

_Cordelia smiles to herself as she sees it happening in her head. _

_Her head. Her head HURTS. _

_"Vis-ion!" She screams before the pain really slams her skull. _

_Someone's taken the baby from her but she only half notices. There is too much blood. Blood and blood and blood and maybe a body under all of it. A figure above it. Find a location. Find a location. Find a –_

Doyle slips off the The View. He hates having to see Cordy having a painful vision. He still feels a guilty for causing her pain. It was for the best, he knows this; even she knows this. But he still feels guilty whenever she suffers through visions.

And lately she seems to be having more and more painful ones. He watches her when even Angel can't. At home, when she is still suffering from the pain hours after the vision has come and left.

"Boo."

Doyle isn't surprised to see Lisa sitting on his couch, swinging her legs a little as she watches him. He has waited as she used The View and she has waited as he has many times before.

"Have a good Viewing?"

"I guess." Doyle shrugs. "I wish I were there."

Lisa nods.

"How is she?" He doesn't need to ask who Lisa means.

"Same. She's forgotten about me."

And he really hadn't meant to answer with that. Or with that much bitterness in his voice.

"No one could forget about you. I bet she remembers you at every vision."

"Yeah, she probably curses my name at the end of every vision."

"Well, you'll never know if you never stay in The View till the end." Lisa has a point but Doyle isn't ready to admit that yet.

"Want to see a movie?"

Lisa rolls her eyes. She's told him several times that she hates his way of changing the conversation when he is uncomfortable.

"Yeah. I want to see that one we were talking about the last time we went out."

They always talk like this. It gets kind of hard to keep tract of how long ago a conversation happened when time doesn't exist.

"Sounds like fun. Let's go."

He is doing it all too quickly. Doyle knows this. Moving out too quickly just proves what Lisa already knows. But if she already knows, then why try to change his ways? Lisa is rolling her eyes but she is also standing up. They walk to the elevator together. Doyle leans forward and pressing the button marked 3.  
  
===Amanda===


	4. Chapter 4

"Do you ever find yourself wishing she'd just die already?" Lisa asks him before taking her pick tongue and running it along the side of her vanilla ice cream cone. Doyle doesn't have to ask who she means.  
  
"Never thought like that. Why?"  
  
Lisa sighs. Doyle recognizes it as her I'm-Not-Happy sigh and prepares himself to listen.  
  
"Well, I was Viewing Alem'ra Jua earlier. He kept being reckless and I was thinking, 'This is going to be it. It's over. We'll be together again.' But he was fine. And I still miss him." Her tongue shaped the ice cream into a spiral.  
  
She has told Doyle many times that she just knows Alem'ra Jua will come here with her. She just knows that The Powers wouldn't separate their love like that. Silently, Doyle isn't so sure. He's seen The Powers not do anything to stop Connor from being torn away from Angel, despite their love. Through The View, he's watched as Cordelia loved the demon spawn growing inside her before it turned into Jasmine and put her in a comma. And he knows that Cordelia's present comma, despite what Angel does because of love from inside Wolfram and Hart, shows no sign of ending soon.  
  
Besides, Doyle doubts that they can turn down Angel for having a checkered past but allow the remorseless Alem'ra Jua in.  
  
"Do you ever wish she'd just die so you two could be together? Sometimes I can't help wishing his death just so we could be together again."  
  
"At least your husband has a chance of coming, here. Wishing Cordy's death wouldn't do any good. She's human, remember?"  
  
Lisa looks up from her ice cream; the corners of her mouth are tucked down a faction of an inch. "Didn't you say that she's demon now?"  
  
"But she wasn't supposed to be. She spent most of her life in her natural human form."  
  
"It may not matter; you don't know the rules for getting in here any more than I do." Lisa smiles, ignoring her ice cream as it drips onto her sneakers. "Even with the new promotion."  
  
Doyle rolls his eyes at her sing song voice. "Would you stop? It isn't a promotion, its just... a larger role."  
  
"But it's so cute! You have your first little assignment. You're picking up you're first newbie from the lobby. I'm so excited for you."  
  
Doyle rolls his eyes again. Lisa goes back to eating her melted ice cream and Doyle goes back to watching her. He thinks that she may be right, maybe he should be getting excited about it, but that the chances of him feeling any positive emotion while Cordelia is stuck in a mindless comma is pretty slim.  
  
An elevator stops in front of Doyle. The metallic doors open. A nicely dressed red demon in a black suit walks out.  
  
"Doyle? It's time for you to fulfill your responsibilities."  
  
If there is one thing that Doyle hates about the staff demons, its there need to talk so full of themselves. Responsibilities? He was doing a meet and greet, for crying out loud!  
  
Leisurely, Doyle puts himself up and walks towards the waiting elevator. "See you around, Lisa," he calls over his shoulder.  
  
He doors snap shut behind him. Leaning forward, he presses the big 'L' in the panel. The elevator comes to life and Doyle waits alone until it stops.  
  
He hadn't missed the white nothing. It's the first thing thought that comes to him as the stands, waiting. The endless appearance of white that just seems to stretch on and on. Nope, this was one thing that he definitely had not missed.  
  
Doyle shifts a little. There may not be time, not in a conventional sense, but there can still be a long wait. He just hopes he can get this over and done with quickly so that he can use The View on Angel again. Watching Angel attempt to handle his new agency is second best thing he could be using The View. Part of him wishes he could still do something to try to help them, but there is another part of him which is a little glad he got out before things became really complicated.  
  
A movement catches his eye. Finally. There is a swirl of energy. A figure stands looking. And Doyle is sure that isn't breathing.  
  
"C-Cordelia?"  
  
The head snaps up, dark brown hair swaying. Maybe he is seeing things. Maybe he is dreaming. Maybe he's gone crazy. Maybe this is some sick side effect from using The View so much.  
  
"Doyle?"  
  
Or maybe it is really is Cordelia. Maybe it is really is the only one he has wanted to see again since his death. Stranger things have happened.  
  
"Doyle, is that really you?"  
  
He can't trust his voice so he takes a step forward, nodding.  
  
"This isn't some trick, right? This is, like, Skip playing with my mind? Cause I gotta say, I don't think I could handle that right now."  
  
He can do this. He can keep calm, not overreact. There is really nothing to it.  
  
But his body isn't really listening. His body is running ahead of his mind. His hand reaches out and his thumb takes it upon itself to trace the line of Cordelia's cheek. It is as he is bending towards Cordelia that he remembers his lips have always been traitorous. It's too late to them though. They're already kissing Cordelia.  
  
The kiss is long and deep and just perfect. Just as Doyle would have expected without the transfer of Visions and the life threatening atmosphere.  
  
"You know, if you aren't careful, I could get used to that."  
  
Doyle grins. He can feel how goofy he must look, but his traitor lips can't seem to care.  
  
"So could I." He isn't even sure that made sense but neither of them are complaining.  
  
"Come on. I'll show you around," Doyle says, not taking his eyes off Cordelia's. He takes her hand into his and leads her towards the opened elevator.  
  
"That would be nice." Cordelia's looking at the elevator a little doubtfully. She turns her attention back to Doyle with a grin. "So, what's in this place worthy of telling me about?"  
  
Doyle smiles. "You."

= = =Amanda= = =


End file.
